


What Kind of Love

by lavendarscorpio



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-War, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendarscorpio/pseuds/lavendarscorpio
Summary: It was their first taste of normalcy after the war ended, but nothing about it felt normal. There was a void, a gaping hole preventing them from feeling like normal humans. Of course, even that was about to be torn apart. At least they found comfort in each other.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Kudos: 10





	1. Aftermath

She was beginning to fall into a routine again for the first time in years. No longer bouncing from place to place, running from her nightmares, she'd settled down. Living in a flat on top of a bookshop, _her_ bookshop, life felt good. As good as it could be, at least.

Hermione had become quite a hermit since the war ended. She'd quietly returned to Hogwarts for her last year, endured being Head Girl while attempting to lick her wounds. She'd come out with top marks and kept her head down after that. She'd stayed close with Harry, even when she was moving from city to city trying to find where she'd fit in. First she tried Australia, in an attempt to bring her parents' memory back. She moved in down the street from them, but after a few months it was clear that it was no use. Her _obliviate_ had been too strong.

After that heartbreak, she moved into the Burrow. Her romance with Ron was kindling strong, but after a while they would fight daily. Hermione left, hoping that by refusing to let it get worse, the two could reconnect as friends later on in life. That never happened. Afterwards, she moved to a small town in the French countryside, which quickly irritated her. She was surrounded by the estates of rich Purebloods who'd previously wanted her dead. 

So, she settled for London. Her flat was decently sized, three stories. The first was her bookshop, the second was a kitchen, living room, and office, and the third was a bedroom and bathroom. She was happy there. For the first time in years, she was happy.

At least as happy as she could be. She mostly dealt with her problems by calling Harry and going to muggle bars during the evenings, getting drunk and going back to her place to watch a film. Either that or burying her head in books, burying herself in work, or picking up a new topic to study until she knew absolutely everything about it. She was relentless in escapism, trying something new every now and then to make her forget. 

Oh how she wished she could forget.

She wished she couldn't still hear Molly Weasley's voice screaming in grief at Ron's funeral after his own mental health declined too far for him to keep battling with it. She wished she couldn't still see Bellatrix Lestrange's deranged face as she carved slurs into her arm. She wished she couldn't remember how disheveled Harry looked in his grief when he couldn't bring himself to shower for weeks or eat properly. She wished she couldn't still feel the pain of curses and hexes and unforgiveables hitting her as if they were a permanent physical memory.

Sometimes she liked to convince herself it was all a dream. That she'd wake up back in Hogwarts as a young girl and meet Harry and Ron in the Common Room before one of her favorite classes. 

But this was reality. The Golden Trio was gone. 

She and Harry were all that remained, and although they were still close, they had drifted significantly. They'd hang out every now and then, discuss things, and then go back to their everyday lives. Harry and Ginny had recently gotten married, which Hermione had warned them that they were only in their early 20s and should think it over longer, but they didn't listen.

Hermione was the Maid of Honor. 

Ginny and Harry now had a home of their own, which they bought with the large sum of galleons the Ministry had ended up rewarding the members of the Golden Trio with after their service. They lived in the countryside, near the Burrow so they could keep up with their large family. 

Harry spent most of his time with Ginny, only occasionally seeing Hermione when she was busy or when he was off work. He'd grown up to become an Auror, which was offered to him directly after the war. He began Auror training instead of coming back for his final year at Hogwarts, which was understandable to Hermione. He'd gone through so much at that school, if she was him, she probably wouldn't have returned either.

Hermione was offered a Ministry position, but she ended up turning it down. She wanted something quiet, something easy. Although life had quieted down for her and Harry, they were still in the limelight every now and then. That damned Rita Skeeter was always running out of headlines and turning to them for something that would catch the general public's eye in the tabloids. There was a new rumor every week- that Hermione and Harry were having an affair, that Ron's death was Hermione's fault, that she and Harry had a secret love child. It got more and more ridiculous with each tabloid. Of course, not a single one was true.

Hermione was used to it at that point. She ignored the tabloids, she ignored the gossip. She'd made a habit of zoning in, polarizing herself into a state of tunnel vision and only focusing on what was right in front of her. 

In the current moment, Hermione was standing in front of a bookshelf in her shop, organizing some new releases. She ran a muggle bookshop mixed with metaphysical items, which had become rather popular. She sold a few items like crystals and books on Paganism and the lot, all which she'd read about. It was always humorous when a muggle came in and told her they were a Pagan witch. 

If only they knew.

But the present moment was stranger than that. None other than Neville Longbottom entered the shop, a bright smile on his face. She heard the bell jingle and mentally prepared herself to see a customer, but seeing him shocked her.

"Hermione!" He called, quickly approaching as he saw her head poke around the corner of the bookshelf. 

"Neville? Merlin, it's been so long! How'd you know where I was?" She asked, a hint of confusion drawn on her warm-toned features.

Her former classmate chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. "Oh, I asked Harry. Listen, we're all meeting up at the Leaky in three days, you should come by. It's basically half of our class from Hogwarts. Like a reunion." He explained.

She knew all about muggles and their high school reunions, but this was quite funny. Hogwarts students rarely interacted after their graduation, unless they were close.

"Oh... interesting. I'll see if I can make it." She murmured, pushing a strand of cinnamon curl out of her face. Part of her wanted to go, but a piece of her gut was telling her not to. It would be hard to see everyone in the same room again, everyone who'd made it out of the war, everyone who'd grown up too quickly.

Neville placed a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. "Please come. It'd be great to reunite with some old friends. You can leave early if you don't want to be there, I can understand why it'd be uncomfortable. But you should try. Where's that Gryffindor courage?" He said, his smile returning.

She smiled back politely, but it wasn't genuine. "You're right. I'll be there." She said. It was a hollow promise. She'd be there if she could get over the twisting feeling in her gut. 

"Great! We'll all be at the Leaky around 6 pm. Don't be early." Neville said. His voice had deepened since the last time Hermione had heard it. "Hannah's excited, she'd love to see you again."

Oh, that was right. Neville and Hannah Abbott were an item, recently engaged. Practically everyone she'd known was either in the process of settling down and getting married or already completing it, except for her of course. It was strange to think about. They weren't even 25 yet and already, most of her classmates were thinking about children. 

Hermione hadn't been with anyone since Ron. Victor Krum had attempted to reconnect with her after running into each other while she was traveling, but nothing had come out of it besides a quick shag. Hermione didn't have the guts to get into a new relationship at that point. 

As Neville left, Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Running a hand through her curls with a nervous twitch, she sighed and returned to sorting the books. It was certainly going to be an interesting weekend. 

-

A pair of steel, grey-green eyes peered out into the expanse before him. His family's gardens were dull and decaying due to the lack of care. No one had the motivation to upkeep the grounds besides the house elves, who couldn't even save the plants from dying. Their magic was strong, but the plants were tied to the family's magic. 

His family was a mess.

His father had been sentenced to Azkaban for a few years now and wasn't getting out anytime soon. His mother was under house arrest and a nervous wreck, dealing with PTSD from the war and having the Dark Lord himself in their home. 

Draco was just... Draco.

On the outside, he appeared no different besides physically. He'd grown into his features quite well, keeping the same hairstyle from his 4th year and sporting a muscular physique. After the war, he was given the choice to return to Hogwarts for his final year or join his mother in house arrest. Hogwarts was definitely the better option. He'd turned to exercise to cope with his emotions, it was an outlet for him. An escape.

Well, so was drinking. He'd be lying if he said he didn't go to the family's wine cellar on a semi-weekly basis to nurse his feelings away in a bottle of firewhiskey. The burn in his throat was all too familiar, as was the warmth in his stomach. It was comforting. 

On the inside, Draco had been hit pretty hard. His whole world was turned around. First, his family had to pay a rather large sum to compensate for their actions and participation in the war. It barely made a dent in their fortune, but was enough to worry his mother, which worried him in turn. Second, people viewed him like he was a monster. Like he wasn't a person anymore. For the first time, he felt like maybe he was wrong. On top of that, he was ordered to take a muggle studies class in his 7th year, and like quite a few of the other Purebloods in his class, he'd been forced to attend what was called a 'rehabilitation' class. For an entire summer, he and practically all of his friends would sit in a large room with a muggleborn healer and discuss why their prejudices were wrong and blah blah blah. 

It had changed his views quite a bit. Although he stayed steely and cold, he was fascinated by the muggle world. Things like toasters and headphones and record players were just so... intriguing. Thank god his father wouldn't be back for another decade, or he'd lose his mind upon seeing the muggle record player Draco had in his room.

He listened to muggle music rather often. The Beatles, Nirvana, Fleetwood Mac... those were his favorites. The record cases were starting to wear from how much Draco opened them up and put them on. 

He'd matured quite a bit. He was the man of the manor now. In between avoiding the general public who hated him more than the Dark Lord himself and taking care of his mother, Draco rarely ever left the house. Narcissa wasn't usually in a great state, so he always stuck around to make sure she was at the very least alright. He kept up with only a few people from his school days, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and occasionally Daphne Greengrass.

Daphe and Theo were a thing, they'd been on and off since graduation. Blaise was one of his best mates, the two would drink at the manor every weekend or so. Pansy was also around, but she'd taken to spending most of her time alone, which was understandable. Most of them did the same thing.

In the beginning, they all stuck together like glue. They had no one else. The entire school looked down on them, as did most of society. They were children caught up in their parents' prejudices and left to rot. 

Of course, their bank accounts said otherwise. 

Draco had taken over his father's company in his absence, which produced liquor for the wizarding world. His current business venture was attempting to produce some for the muggle world, which would certainly be difficult. If his father heard about it, he'd probably be furious, but Draco didn't care anymore.

Besides, it's not like his father was around to find out. Lucius hadn't made a single attempt to contact his son since his imprisonment, mostly because Draco had the guts to speak against him during his trial. He knew his mother was in contact with him, the two would write back and forth on a weekly basis. Draco just didn't care enough to do the same for his father.

With a sigh, he decided it was finally time to get out of bed. The clock read 1:46 pm. He'd barely slept the previous night but just couldn't bring himself to get up. His nights were plagued by nightmares and flashbacks, so sleep wasn't exactly his favorite activity. He floated through his days like a ghost.

A house elf apparated into his room with a pop and looked up at him. "Would Master Draco like something to eat? To have a bath drawn?" The house elf asked with large eyes.

"No thank you, Pippy." Draco replied with a small sigh. "Just tend to my mother today, please." He asked calmly.

The house elf bowed and apparated away with another pop and Draco dragged himself to the closet, dressing in a white button down and casual black slacks. His shirt was untucked, his feet donned a pair of dragonhide dress shoes. 

On his way to the kitchen, he heard a familiar noise. The floo in his study was roaring to life, and with it were two voices. Familiar voices, of course.

Draco opened the large wooden doors to see Theo and Blaise standing inside, laughing amongst themselves. Upon seeing him, their faces lit up even more. Draco plastered on a smile.

"Dracoooo!" Blaise said, walking over and patting him roughly on the back. He was still as rowdy as a child. Somedays, Draco could swear the boy belonged in Gryfifndor with his attitude, but he knew he was a Slytherin through and through. They all were. 

"Blaise, Theo. What's up, surely you're not here to get drunk at 2 in the afternoon?" The blonde asked, quirking his eyebrow.

Theo chuckled. "Ah, I wish mate. I have to get back to Daphne's soon, she's expecting me for lunch. Anyways, we wanted to ask you something."

Draco nodded. "Get on with it."

Blaise cleared his throat. "So, everyone's meeting up at the Leaky in a couple days. You should join."

"That's a horrible idea, Blaise." The Malfoy heir said with a deep sigh. "You know how I feel about going out."

"Yeah but think about it, that's the thing. When was the last time you actually left the manor to go anywhere besides my house or Theo's?" Blaise fired back.

Theo nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's been like two years man. Come on, give it a try. Just for one night. If you hate it, we can always go back to my place and get smashed." He said, wiggling his eyebrows with a smile.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. One night. If it goes wrong, you're the ones who's liquor supply I'll be raiding."

Blaise laughed. "As if it's not your family's liquor in our cabinets. Anyways, we've gotta head back. Saturday night at the Leak, 6 pm sharp. Don't be late."

As his two closest friends disappeared back into the Floo, Draco sighed to himself, debating whether he'd go or not. They did have a point, he should at least make an attempt to go. Part of him wanted to show up late just to bother them, but then again, the earlier he showed up, the earlier he could find an excuse to leave. It should be fine, they hadn't mentioned anyone else. It would probably just be a bunch of former Slytherins getting wasted all in one room. That didn't sound half bad.

If only future Draco could go back and punch himself in the stomach for that.


	2. Fate is a Cruel Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting at the Leaky doesn't go as planned... for anyone involved.

Time seemed to fly for Hermione. Things had been slow over the previous days, only a few people coming in every few hours while the shop was open to browse and buy a book or two. She spent most of her time organizing, reorganizing, and sitting at the front bored.

She woke up on Saturday morning with a bit of a jolt. Another nightmare consumed her sleep. She sighed, looking over the clock beside her bed. It was only 4:53. She wanted to go back to sleep, but her brain didn't. She knew she'd just have another nightmare. Another vision of Bellatrix Lestrange cackling over her, another vision of her own blood spilling onto the floor as the slur she hated so much was carved into her skin.

Her scar was still there. She hated to look at it, but it was still there.

At least it was fading.

Hermione pulled herself out of bed and used her wand to turn on one of the lowly-lit floorlamps in the corner of her bedroom. The lamp flickered to life and Hermione shivered as a mid-autumn chill brushed against her smooth skin. She quickly realized she'd left a window open and closed it with magic before heading into her bathroom.

She took a long shower, mostly just standing still and letting the warm water pour down onto her body. She washed her body and her hair, took her time conditioning it and cleaning herself off. Self care was one of the only things that kept her sane in the present. She had to throw herself into it, otherwise she'd forget and fall into a depressive state. She tried her best to keep motivation. Some days were harder than others.

After showering, she went through her morning routine. She covered her skin in lotion to keep it hydrated amongst the autumn and winter months, washed her face, brushed her teeth, combed through her dense, thick curls while they were still wet, and put on a loose, oversized t-shirt. It was one of Harry's that he'd given to her a few weeks after the war ended. He'd left it at her house and eventually decided it was best for her to keep it. He had bad memories tied to it, while she didn't. 

She put on some music using a speaker system and a CD, letting the sounds lull her mind into a peaceful place. The sun wouldn't rise for another hour or so, so she had time to kill. She did little things to lighten her mood, putting on a scented candle and lighting some incense that she had leftover from a collection of incense that was sold in the bookshop. She used a glamour charm to smooth out her curls and tame them while they were drying. 

She hated looking in the mirror, though. Washing her face and brushing her teeth was always the worst. Even checking out her outfit. Sometimes she just hated seeing how grown up she was.

Hermione had grown into herself significantly. Sporting delicate, feminine curves and a petite body that packed quite a bit of punch, she was still herself. She'd barely grown in stature from her days at Hogwarts, but her hair was long and fell into well defined ringlets that she brushed out after they dried. Her skin was paler than normal, nearly a pearlescent ivory shade, due to lack of sunlight. Her body was still covered in little moles and freckles, though. Her eyes hadn't changed a bit. Her lashes were thick and medium length with honey-colored orbs peering through.

She sighed to herself, reaching onto her bedside table and grabbing a book that'd been sitting there for a few nights. She'd begun it and meant to finish it all in one sitting, but had dozed off and forgotten about it for a moment. She began turning the pages, letting herself get lost in the storyline until the sun began to rise. 

Upon sunrise, she put on a casual outfit for work and looked at herself in the mirror for the second time that day. She wore a pair of form-fitting black slacks and an old Gryffindor sweater, glamour charmed so muggles couldn't see any of the Hogwarts paraphernalia. To them, it appeared like a sweatshirt from a local University.

She cleaned up the shop a bit, though there wasn't much to clean. She was mostly looking for a distraction from the everyday chaos of her mind. Keeping herself busy was the best way for her to forget, to keep her mind off of everything. She'd gotten a lot better at it, after all, it had been a couple years. Her hair was tied into a loose ponytail with a golden velvet ribbon she'd found lying around. It complimented her sweater and skintone nicely. 

With a sigh, Hermione retreated upstairs to her kitchen to make a quick cup of coffee, leaning against the marble countertops as it was brewing. She could easily use magic to make it, but it was better to do it the muggle way. She liked doing things that way. It was normal for her.

Sometimes she felt like using magic was cheating, but at the same time, she was gifted and she might as well use it when she needed to. It was around 7 am at that point, the shop would be opening in 2 hours. She decided on warming up a croissant for breakfast and having a green apple as well. Her coffee finished brewing and she put it in one of her favorite mugs, a gift from Harry. It had a magical picture of Crookshanks on it, who had unfortunately passed around a year ago. It had broken Hermione's heart to loose her beloved familiar. The half-kneazle had contracted a veterinary disease and care was impossible due to it's terminal status, so Hermione did her best to keep him comfortable until his passing.

She still remembered reuniting with her pet after the war ended. He was being taken care of by Molly at the Burrow while she was Horcrux hunting with Harry and during the battle at the school. He waited for her valiantly. When she saw him again, Molly said she'd never seen the kneazle-mix so happy before. Apparently he hadn't been the happiest camper around the Weasleys, only Molly was able to get on his good side. Even Ron couldn't come near him without a hiss. 

She felt a pang of sadness as she realized she'd never hold him again. He was always with her in that mug, though. With a small sigh, she took a sip before realizing she'd become so lost in thought that she completely forgot to add cream or sugar or anything at all for that matter. She quickly added a bit from the fridge and then took another sip, sighing into her mug.

After eating a quiet breakfast, she read some more to pass the time, and eventually it was time for the shop to open.

It was a busier day than the past few, but not as busy as it was on the weekdays. A few regular customers came in to pick up books she'd recommended to them or to buy another book from a series they were reading. She sold some expensive limited editions, a few classics. It was pretty average of a day.

Until she realized what day it was.

It was Saturday. She was meeting Neville and the others at the Leaky. _Shit!_

She checked her clock. It was 5. She only had an hour to get ready and go over there. Hermione rushed to turn the bookshop's window sign to 'closed' and practically sprinted upstairs. She hadn't even decided on an outfit. She groaned as she went through her closet. _Formal or casual? Too formal... too casual... not formal enough... not casual enough..._

She settled on a short, form-fitting black dress with long sleeves and a deep v-neckline. She put on a pair of black kitten heels to match and let her hair down, glamouring it so her elegant curls spilled over her shoulders and down her back.

She wasn't usually a makeup kind of person, but today felt special. She might as well go all out and put the effort in. She opted for some mascara on her eyelashes to enhance her gaze and a bit of sheer lipstick about a shade darker than her lips to enhance them as well. She put on a pair of simple gold earrings and decided that was good enough.

She checked the clock again. It was 5:45. She had no idea how time had passed by that quickly. She fast-walked into the bathroom and gave herself a quick look over. She looked... good. She quickly brushed her teeth again and used some mouthwash before messing with her hair a bit to make sure it fell just the way she wanted it to before looking around for her things.

She grabbed a small black shoulder bag, enchanted like the beaded bag she'd once carried during her older days. She grabbed her wand and her lipstick as well as a small perfume bottle, spraying herself with it before she left. It smelled of patchouli, vanilla, and a faint hint of coffee. Tossing it into her bag, she walked down the stairs into the kitchen area and over to her door, which lead down a flight of stairs into the bookshop. She grabbed her keys from a dish by the doorway and locked her door on the way out, making her way down the stairs and hoping not to trip.

Hermione nearly forgot to lock the door of the shop on her way out, but did so anyways. There wasn't a floo nearby so she'd have to apparate. With a sigh, she made her way down the street, the sun setting behind her. It wasn't dark yet, merely golden hour, so she knew she had to find a safe place to apparate without being seen by a muggle. It took her a little while to find an alleyway with no windows or people walking by, and she popped into an alleyway near the Leaky Cauldron and made her way out. 

The London streets were busy with muggles and a few wizards she recognized in the muggle world, busily walking and talking amongst each other. She blended in perfectly, making her way down the sidewalk as cars passed by. She quickly found the old building that contained so many memories within its walls and stood outside for a moment, taking it all in. She hadn't been there in years. Not since right after graduation. Harry and Ron had taken her out for a night to drink, that night Harry had announced he and Ginny were in a serious relationship. It had been a good night.

She sighed, pushing the memory into the back of her mind. She realized she was a bit late, cursing to herself under her breath. 

As she stepped in, a gust of air hit her. It wasn't as much of a breeze as it was a change of energy, but she felt it nonetheless. She sucked in a breath and looked around, seeing quite a few familiar faces as she entered. 

"Hermione!" A few different people called at once, and she began to feel a bit overwhelmed. Maybe this was a bad idea.

She quickly recognized Hannah Abbott, who was smiling from ear to ear. 

"Hermione, I'm so glad you could make it!" The former Hufflepuff gasped, giving the curly-haired brunette a tight hug. Hermione returned this with a smile and wrapped her arms around the acquaintance.

"It's so great to see you, you look amazing, Hannah." She replied politely. 

The blonde was beaming. "Did Neville tell you?"

"Tell me what?" She asked.

Hannah reached out her hand to show off a delicate-looking, dainty but beautiful ring on her right ring finger.

"Merlin! He didn't say a word!" Hermione gasped, holding Hannah's hand and examining the ring with her.

The Hufflepuff smiled. "We were going to announce it later tonight, but I've been blabbing about it for a while. I'm just so excited." She said with a grin.

Hermione chuckled. "I can understand why."

Honestly, she couldn't. Why be in such a rush to settle down? They still had so much life to live. Although... she could kind of see it. The wizarding world had lost many of their people and there was a need to reproduce. It was still odd, though. They were barely adults.

Harry and Ginny were quick to pull her away from Hannah, though.

"MIONE!" Harry said, excitement bubbling in his voice. He was definitely tipsy. One of his arms was slung around Ginny for a moment before he gave her a sloppy hug, drunkenly kissing her forehead while Ginny laughed. She was definitely sober. 

"Harry, Ginny, it's so good to see you!" Hermione replied, smiling and giving them both an embrace. "You look amazing as always, Gin."

"What, are you trying to steal my girl now, 'Mione?" Harry joked, his words slightly slurred. "That'd give Skeeter quite the headline." He chuckled dryly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if, Harry. She's been smitten with you since I met her."

The redhead beside him laughed lightly. "True, true. No one's stealing me away from this fool."

The night continued on quite interestingly. It was nice seeing everyone, they looked quite happy on the outside. Everything seemed normal, Hermione talked with quite a few of her old classmates. Some Ravenclaws, some Gryffindors, a few Hufflepuffs in the mix. There didn't seem to be any Slytherins present, which was somewhat understandable.

Until she made eye contact with _him_ and a shiver went up her spine.

Leaning against the bar was none other than Draco Malfoy, looking as cool and collected as ever. His icy stare was still piercing even in the low lighting, practically staring holes through her head. Normally, it would be easy for Hermione to read what others were thinking when they looked at her based on body language and expression, but Malfoy was impossible to read. He was so cold. He looked the same as always, but he'd grown a lot more.

His bone structure was sharp and angular, he'd filled into his features. She could see muscles peeking out from the long-sleeved white shirt he was wearing. It was clear he'd become a man since the last time she saw him.

She knew about the Purebloods having to take a cultural rehabilitation class but she didn't buy it that any of them had actually changed. Especially not Malfoy. She doubted he'd ever grow out of his childish prejudices and make things right, but her future self would laugh at her current thoughts. If only she knew what was in store. 

She looked away and disappeared into the group of reuniting Gryffindors for a while, talking about life and how things had been. At least five people tried to bring up sensitive topics, so eventually she made her way out of the small crowd and back to the table where Harry and Ginny were. She looked over to meet his gaze yet again and another chill ran up her spine, it was nearly electrifying. 

The tension between them was thick, she could practically feel it buzzing around her like flies. She couldn't do anything about it. She turned to ask Harry if he could grab her a drink but he and Ginny had disappeared into the crowd of people, chattering about their lives.

Swallowing the saliva in her mouth, Hermione realized she'd have to approach the bar herself. She'd be closer to Malfoy than she'd been in years. She hadn't seen him since Hogwarts, he'd returned with her and had graduated 2nd top of the class, 2nd only to her of course. The two had always battled for top marks, but it was no surprise to either of them that she came out on top. She was, after all, Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her generation.

She approached the bar gingerly, sitting down at one of the barstools on the opposite side of Malfoy. She didn't necessarily want to be near him, she had no idea what he was like. There was always a possibility that he was a better person than he'd been in the previous years, but she didn't exactly have any interest in finding out. The bartender approached her quickly and asked for her order.

"I'll have a gin and tonic please." The brunette asked, reaching for her bag to fish out something to pay the bartender. While her head was down, she heard a deep, masculine voice come from over her left shoulder.

"Put it on my tab." 

Hermione sat up and looked over to see none other than Malfoy himself. A look of confusion covered her features quickly, her mouth slightly agape. She collected herself quickly and dipped her head. "Thank you." She murmured. "You don't have to do that."

"You Gryffindors and your sodding pride. Just accept it, Granger. It's a drink." Malfoy chuckled dryly, running an elegant, masculine hand through his icy locks. 

Hermione offered up a small smile to be polite. "Fine then. Fancy seeing you here, I suppose."

He huffed lightly with a dry smile. "Yeah, likewise. I don't really want to be here."

"Me neither." She replied.

He sat down next to her and ordered another gin and tonic for himself, and the bartender brought hers shortly after. She began sipping gingerly, biting the small cocktail straw lightly with her lips.

"May I ask why you're being... well, let's put it this way- may I ask why you're not being a complete and utter prat towards me, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, raising a single brow. 

The blonde laughed softly. "Well, times have changed, Granger. Besides, I might as well make an attempt to compensate for my past behavior before it haunts me in the next life." He joked. 

She took another sip and looked over at him. "That's good of you. How have things been, I've barely heard about you over the years?"

He sighed. "Boring, mostly staying home, drinking, avoiding the tabloids. You know the routine by now, Miss Golden Girl."

She nodded softly. "Yeah, I understand that. I can't even avoid the tabloids, that foul little roach of a woman, Skeeter, pulls shite out of her arse and slaps my name on it whenever she gets bored and her headlines stop drawing in attention." Hermione said with an agitated look.

"It'll get better eventually, just don't give her any reason to write about you." He said with no expressive tone.

She looked over at him with an unamused look on her face. "I work in a muggle bookshop as far away from her as physically possible and rarely leave. I truly don't do anything that would give her anything to write about, Malfoy."

"It was half sarcastic." He said with a shrug as his drink came.

A few drinks and some shots later and the two were warming up to each other. It was quite strange, though. She was... enjoying herself, talking to Malfoy. They weren't talking about anything too deep, it was mostly surface level discussion. But it was still conversation. She discovered he was actually rather easy to talk to. It felt natural. They were both smart, so discussing literature became a topic of interest to both of them. They talked for ages about their favorite books. She found out he was actually into muggle literature, which was quite a shock to her. He was the last person she would ever expect to be curled up on a couch reading Shakespeare and Dickens. 

A few more drinks and the two were definitely drunk. 

"Malfoy, how do you expect me to pay you back for these? You've bought like... what, 6 drinks for me?" Hermione slurred lightly.

The blonde let out a small laugh. "Don't worry about it. Consider this a small token of compensation, again."

"Kinda hard to compensate for your aunt torturing me and my friends in your house with some alcohol." Hermione joked, but she could tell instantly it was a little too dark. She hadn't been smiling when she said it either, it just spilled out of her mouth.

Beside her, Malfoy stiffened noticeably, a different sort of look coming over his features. It wasn't sad, it wasn't upset... it was nostalgic. 

It was as if he was reliving the moment right alongside her.

"I'm sorry." He murmured.

She looked over at him. "No, no... I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't your fault."

"I contributed, though. I did so much in the name of my father." They were both definitely drunk, otherwise none of this would've ever been said.

Hermione tried to put a hand over his shoulder in comfort but completely missed, nearly falling off her barstool. "I... think I need some air." She said, suddenly becoming claustrophobic in the small room. People were everywhere, against each other, practically crowded in. 

He seemed to sober up a bit and nodded to her, as if they had a mutual understanding of what to do. He helped her outside and into an alleyway where she proceeded to throw up the little food that was in her system from drinking too much and he held her hair back. It was quite possibly the kindest thing he'd ever done for her.

"Hermione..." He mumbled. "We should get you back inside to one of your friends, or home."

She groaned drunkenly, her head falling onto his lap, as he was kneeled beside her. "Mmmm, no... I can't... can't go back in there... or apparate like this alone..."

He sighed and helped her up. "My place it is."

And with that, she felt an arm wrap around her waist and heard the pop of apparation.

If she was sober in the moment, she would've been asking herself _what the hell is going on?_

She was took drunk to ask that. Or to care. Her common sense had flown out of the window about 5 drinks ago.


	3. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weirdest night ever... and the worst possible outcome.

Hermione instantly felt the change of scenery even with her eyes half open. She could feel luxurious hardwood underneath her heels. When her eyes opened more, she was in a beautiful bedroom. It was dark green, black, and grey. Very... Slytherin. This was definitely Malfoy's room.

He took his arm from her waist and made his way over to a dresser while she stumbled to the foot of his bed where there was a quilted velvet bench. She flopped down and took her heels off with a sigh. He fetched something from a drawer and made his way over to her. "Change into this, it'll be a lot more comfortable. I'm not letting you go anywhere like this so you're staying the night." He mumbled, a bit shyly. 

She looked up at him and decided she shouldn't be complaining. Had she been sober, this would be a terrible idea, but in the moment, she didn't have anywhere else to turn. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

Well... he could kill her in her sleep. Or call her a mudblood. Or poison her with a potion. 

She pushed that to the back of her mind. Paranoia didn't seem very useful, and why would he go through the effort to literally bring her into his own home, even his own bedroom, if he had bad intentions? He did seem like he'd changed quite a bit. He hadn't called her one derogatory term all night or made fun of her friends or degraded her muggle ways.

She casually stripped off her dress, too drunk to remember he was literally right in front of her and way too drunk to care.

A small yelp emitted from Malfoy's mouth and he quickly turned around before she realized he was still there. A blush creeped up both of their faces and she continued to change, now more comfortable that he was turned around.

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy... *hiccup* I forgot... *hiccup* that you were there." Hermione slurred her words.

Malfoy turned back around to see her dress and heels discarded on the floor and to see her in nothing but one of his old quidditch jerseys. His blush didn't fade. As much as he hated to admit it, the witch looked damn good. He knew he shouldn't be having thoughts like that, but damn it all, they were both drunk adults who'd grown up too fast. Did it really matter?

"Don't worry about it." He murmured softly, staring down at her. He was significantly taller, practically towering over her. "And call me Draco."

"Draco." Hermione said, letting it roll off her tongue. She hiccuped again. "Okay. But *hiccup* only if you call me *hiccup* Hermione."

He chuckled. "Deal, but come on, I'm getting you a potion to stop that." Draco replied.

He helped her make her way down the hallway and into his personal study, which was huge and one of the most beautiful studies Hermione had ever seen. He had a small personal library, a huge bookshelf covered from top to bottom in books that were packed in tightly, a large mahogany desk that matched the bookshelf and walls. There was a fireplace on the other side and large, dark green drapes over the windows. The fire was lit upon the two entering the room, and Draco sat her down in the large wooden and leather chair by his desk. Hermione giggled softly, it was insanely comfortable and she couldn't help it.

She continued to hiccup as he made his way to a large wooden cabinet in the corner and shuffled around, looking for the right potion. In that moment, Hermione was a bit worried. What if he actually did try to poison her? Screw it, she was too drunk to care. She'd trust him this time. Besides, she'd beaten him for top marks in potions, she could find an antidote for anything he'd throw at her.

At least that was her drunken train of thought.

He came back with two different potions in little vials, handing her the first. "This will stop the hiccups." He said quietly, watching her. She took the vial and held it up to her nose, sniffing to see if she could catch any kind of bad ingredient. When none was noticed, she downed it and the hiccups stopped seconds later. He rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I'm not going to poison you." He chuckled. 

She looked up at him. "Sorry... just... paranoid."

He handed her the second afterwards. "This will help in the morning." She sniffed it again and downed it faster than the other one. "You're really... good at potions." She murmured.

"Yeah? Thanks. I've been working on them for a while. The second is still in the works but it should help with a hangover. I figured... if I made a hangover cure, it would help my family's liquor sales go up quite a bit. Imagine being able to drink as much as you want with no consequence in the morning."

She chuckled softly. "That would be a dream, wouldn't it?"

He had a much higher tolerance to alcohol than her and was beginning to sober up, but he was still a bit drunk. Draco helped her up and she looked over at his bookshelf once more before the two made their way back to his bedroom.

That's when the conversations began to take a turn.

A dangerous turn.

At first they were talking more about literature, about how things had been. Still drunk, there was a humorous air to the conversations and things were lighthearted. 

\- and after that one night stand, she tried to floo to my home 14 times because I wouldn't respond to her owls. I had to shut the network down completely!" Draco laughed, Hermione attempting not to laugh too loud as she rolled over onto her back.

The pair were sitting on the floor, and for the first time they were really connecting, bonding even. Of course, had there been no alcohol involved, this would've never been the case. Who would've imagined- Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger actually becoming... friendly. Usually, they just tolerated each other. But this was even better.

"God, it was the same for me with Victor Krum. About a year ago, it just happened so fast and I left as soon as I woke up. Never saw him again except in the news." Hermione gushed as Draco chuckled.

"I can't imagine he was bad in bed, or as bad as the younger Greengrass. She was just... ugh." He made a jokingly disgusted face.

She laughed again. "No, no, he wasn't bad. He just wanted more and I couldn't deliver. I've avoided those situations ever since."

"Geez, don't you ever get lonely?" Draco asked as she rolled back up to sit cross-legged and upright like he was.

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes. I just keep myself busy, though. It's easier than nothing."

He nodded. "I understand. I do the same thing." The blonde sighed lightly, running a hand through his hair again. 

Through a new perspective, Hermione was seeing a new light to him. He was much... kinder than she'd ever expected. And his hair looked so damn soft.

She needed to snap out of it, she couldn't be thinking like that when she'd barely met this side of him. 

She yawned softly and looked down at her watch. "Oh Merlin, it's already 4 am, I have to be up in the morning!" She gasped, her mouth ajar. 

Draco chuckled. "Don't stress yourself out. You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

She tilted her head, still tipsy. "Are you sure? The floor must not be that comfortable."

"No, no, it's okay. Seriously, get some sleep." He said, offering a hand to help her up and untucking the large, plush comforter to let her slip into the crisp silk sheets of his bed. She slipped in with ease and he covered up her petite frame with the blanked before grabbing a pillow off the other side of the bed, which was literally covered in pillows, and retreated to his walk in closet to grab a spare blanket before returning and setting up on the floor.

She'd never realized what a gentleman he could be. She'd seen him hold doors for girls at Hogwarts and seen him in the tabloids on dates a couple times, always acting perfectly charming, but she'd never experienced it. It was quite interesting. 

She fell asleep quickly given the comfortable bed she was in. Her own bed had a memory foam mattress, but she couldn't lie, this had to be enchanted somehow. It was an otherworldy kind of comfort. Maybe it was just the alcohol.

-

Draco knew sleep wasn't going to lead to a good place but he might as well try to get a few hours at the least. He'd probably wake up early and make something for both of them to eat and pray his hangover cure worked. 

He'd never really seen Granger- well, Hermione, like he did now. She'd grown magnificently, she looked beautiful. He hadn't expected things to turn this well in their favor.

She was intelligent, funny, sophisticated, all in ways he'd never thought a muggleborn could be during his schoolboy years. He was ashamed of the way he'd once been, but he truly had changed and extending some kindness to her was the least he could do after all he put her and her friends through. Would he ever make that kind of effort to Potter? No, definitely not. But Hermione was different. She was less stubborn, more understanding, more flexible. 

In the beginning of the night, he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of her. As a kid, he was always ashamed of being second to her in almost everything except for quidditch of course, but as he saw her now, he was honored to even be compared. They'd both been met with incredibly difficult situations, on the opposite teams, but they made it out. 

It was ironic, he'd sported a schoolboy crush on her for years, which was part of the reason he was particularly horrible to her. He didn't know how to confront the fact that he was attracted to someone who was so forbidden to him by his parents and culture. Now, it was all down the drain.

He wasn't exactly at the point of thinking those kinds of thoughts about her again just yet, but friendship was a nice start. Although he refused to say it or even think it for more than a second, she was the one witch he'd kill to sleep with at least once in his life. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and attempted to make some peace with the comfortable silence in the room. He could hear her lightly breathing from about 10 feet away and closed his eyes, letting that noise lull him to sleep.

-

Hermione woke with a start about an hour after she fell asleep to the sound of movement and murmuring.

"No... no... please, please not my mother..." Draco muttered in his sleep on the floor.

Hermione sat up in bed and looked over at him after realizing he was the source of the noises. He was rolling back and forth, tossing and turning. Clearly having a nightmare. She was familiar with that, she'd had them for a while after everything took a turn in her life, and she'd turned to dreamless sleep potions in order to soothe her mind into letting her get a peaceful rest. Unfortunately, they didn't work forever. Her body built up a tolerance. 

He kept murmuring until suddenly he grew louder and began to thrash a bit.

Hermione threw the covers off and stumbled over through the dark to shake his shoulders once she could get ahold of him. His features, twisted into a troubled expression, were highlighted by the pale moonlight flowing in through the open curtains. She shook him once, hard, and then again.

He woke up with a gasp.

"Not her, not her... H... Hermione?" Draco's eyes opened slowly and adjusted to the light, looking forward at her through wide silvery-green eyes.

"You're okay." She murmured softly, lightly stroking his shoulder with her thumb. "Come on." She stood up slowly and offered out a hand.

"W... Where?" Draco stammered, still tired. He was about half awake.

The alcohol had definitely warn off for both of them.

If it hadn't, it had sobered Hermione up to see and hear him. 

She remembered taking care of Ron after he'd have nightmares. She'd take him back to her bed and hold him lightly until he fell asleep, and he'd usually be okay. 

She wasn't sure how to do that with Draco... but she'd try.

Hermione helped him up and the two retreated back to his bed. It was huge, a four poster dark wooden bed with silvery silk sheets and a quilted, dark green comforter. She helped him into the other side and climbed in beside him. The oddest part was that it wasn't even awkward.

Besides, they wouldn't mention it later. They had to do what they had to do to manage their post-war affects. To each their own.

The two fell asleep rather quickly, facing each other on opposite sides... but that's not how they woke up.

-

Draco woke up earlier than Hermione, smelling a faint scent of honey in front of his face. His eyes opened to see the top of her head directly under his, and realized the scent was coming from her hair. His eyes widened at first, before he realized he could feel her soft hands resting against his chest. His arm was around her. 

_But... we didn't... nothing happened._

The memories came back to them. Nothing had happened, but they'd made the mistake of falling asleep in the same bed. Whatever. He wouldn't say anything to her about it later and she probably wouldn't even remember ending up in this position. They'd fallen asleep on other sides of the bed. She definitely wouldn't. 

Although he shouldn't have, he couldn't help but inhale the scent of her hair one more time. She smelled divine, even laying there in his bed with smudged mascara and light bags under her eyes. He carefully removed himself from her, successful in his efforts not to disturb her, and made his way into the bathroom.

He cast a silencing charm on the door and took a shower, wrapping himself in a towel afterwards and going through his own morning routine. He went out into the hallway after pulling on a pair of black sweatpants and asked one of the house elves to bring a few cups of coffee and some buttered toast to his bedroom.

It was there less than five minutes later. He thanked the elf and brought it inside in time to see her begin to stir awake.

"Hermione..." He called softly.

Her honey colored eyes opened and widened. "Wait... wait-" She murmured as her brain struggled to put the pieces together before the memories of the previous night came flooding back. She seemed to sigh with relief as she realized they hadn't... well, slept together.

They had, but not in the way that would've been an issue. 

She quickly realized he was literally shirtless, standing in front of her in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His hair was shimmering with droplets of water, he'd definitely just showered. She sat up as he brought over a cup of coffee and a large plate with a stack of buttered toast on it.

"Wanna share?" He said with a light smirk.

"Ugh, please." She replied. Her head was pounding. It wasn't as bad as it was most times she was hungover, but she'd definitely talk to him later about improving on that potion.

She took a piece and nibbled on the sides, her eyes nearly rolling into the back of her head at how divine it tasted. The coffee was perfect as well. Impeccable. 

The two of them ate in silence for a moment before she asked for the time.

"10:30." He replied, checking. 

"Fuck!" She cursed, finishing her toast and scrambling to find her clothes. 

"What's the rush? Y'know, I usually struggle getting women to _leave_ my bed, not stay in it." Draco joked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm late, I have to get to work. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." She muttered as she gathered her clothes off the floor. "Turn around, I have to change." She said as she turned to face away from him.

He complied, putting his hand over his eyes before she looked away. She began to strip and he couldn't help but take a small peak at her. She was wearing matching black underwear, lacy but soft looking. Draco immediately regretted looking. He found it hard to tear his eyes away from her feminine form. He covered his eyes again and slipped his lower body under the covers, opting to have a piece of toast to distract himself.

She finished changing back into her clothes from the night before. "Thank you." She said softly.

Draco nodded. "Anytime."

"I've got to get going but... this was nice. You're not half as bad as you used to be." Hermione teased.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Neither are you."

"We should do this again... minus the getting too drunk and throwing up and sleeping together part." The curly-haired ex-Gryffindor said with a light smile.

"I'll owl you." 

She apparated out quickly and back into the alleyway where she'd first been, trying to go to the Leaky. She walked home, her heels in her hands. It truly did feel like the walk of shame. She could feel someone or something watching her, but dismissed it was paranoia until she heard a camera click.

Then she knew she had to get out of there.

Hermione found a quick bit foolproof spot and apparated into her home. She changed into something appropriate for work and rushed downstairs to change the door sign to 'open' before seeing about 5 letters in front of her door, clearly from Harry because of the handwriting on the front.

As she opened them, her mouth fell open.

_"Hermione,_

_It's bad. Skeeter saw you and Malfoy last night._

_Why were you even with that prat?_

_Call me._

_\- Harry"_

_"Hermione,_

_I'm worried about you, you usually answer by now._

_Please don't look at the headlines, they're bad._

_\- Harry"_

_"Hermione,_

_Actually you should see this._

_I'm hexing Skeeter the next time I see her. I don't care if I get fired._

_\- Harry"_

After those, a newspaper was attached. Somehow, Skeeter had been around the night before... or one of her little rats had been. A photo of her and Malfoy exiting the Leaky Cauldron the previous night. _Damn you, Rita. How are you this fast?_

Of course... of course there was some bullshit headline about how the two of them were having a secret relationship and were a couple.

Merlin, the hexes that would fly if Hermione ever ran into Skeeter again.

With a sigh, Hermione attempted to get through her day as normal.


	4. The Arangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Malfoy and Granger strike up a deal.

Draco had been laughing at the headlines of the Daily Prophet all day. 

First, his mother had entered his bedroom with a face that looked like she'd seen a ghost, holding the paper up and barely being able to get out a word because of her own shock. Draco had to read over it twice in order to even begin to process what Skeeter was trying to say happened. 

Narcissa wasn't even disapproving of it. In fact, she said being seen with Hermione would be incredible for the family's social status. Maybe the Malfoys could redeem themselves. However, Draco quickly told her they were barely friends, mostly acquaintances, and he wasn't going to use her in order to try and save his family's tarnished reputation. 

He'd sent an owl to Hermione earlier with a clip of the paper, but after he sent it he was sure she'd probably seen it by then. Potter was probably losing his tiny Gryffindor mind.

Draco chuckled at the thought of Potter reading the Prophet and seeing the two of them leaving the pub with his arm holding her waist to keep her upright. That'd be a sight for sore eyes. 

The blonde received an owl back shortly after, she'd definitely already seen it. She was also giving him tips on improving his hangover potion. He quickly wrote back suggesting she could come over again and the two could work on it.

It was mostly an excuse just to see her again. Although he couldn't explain it, the force between them was magnetic. He felt a pull to be around her. To see her. 

He'd certainly underestimated her during his school years, and maybe this was a chance for him to open his mind and open his world to someone who could be good for him. Most of his friends as a child would simply bow to his every demand and didn't respect him, they feared him. They did everything he wanted them to do out of fear. That was one thing he liked about Blaise and Theo, they didn't care. They wouldn't lift a finger for him unless they wanted to.

Hermione, though... she never caved to his taunting or straight up bullying. She wasn't a branch swaying in the wind. She was rooted. She was strong.

She was someone he could see as an equal. That was always important for him.

Draco regularly found himself surrounded by people who were either inferior or superior. Back in the day, his father was superior. Muggleborns... well, according to his father were not, so to him, they were not. Times had changed, though. He had changed. And this was a good step in the right direction.

Besides, Draco had been lonely. Although he adored his friends, he'd been around the same people for practically his entire life. Pureblood culture was to always stick with those of your 'kind' and never break the unspoken rules that were ushered upon you. To hell with them, though. Pureblood culture was crumbling, especially that of the Sacred 28. The Ministry wanted the wizarding world to repopulate, and eventually those sacred bloodlines were going to be diminished unless they only reproduced with each other.

Draco couldn't think of anything worse than being forced to settle down just yet, especially with one of the women he'd grown up around. He already knew how it would go, though. Theo and Daphne would certainly get together, Blaise would possibly get with the younger Greengrass, everyone else would be arranged. Parkinson would probably make a nosedive to 'claim' him before anyone else. That's just how it was. Unless by some grace of Merlin they decided to stray from their family's rules.

Narcissa and Draco had a discussion at one point a few months before the present moment. Narcissa confessed she really didn't care much about blood purity. She'd followed along because she loved Lucius and it was important to him, so she made it important to her. Now that he was out of the picture, she told Draco she wanted him to marry for love. Not for a purist code that was on the verge of collapsing every passing day given the modern climate. 

At first, Draco had been weird about it. Fears nagged at him. He would be terrified to break that code and have his father find out, but he realized he had to stop doing things for his father's approval. He was locked up in Azkaban for decades to come. There was nothing he could do.

Draco had debated marriage for a while. He could go with a traditional arranged marriage to a woman from the Sacred 28, have an heir, and then simply break it off or have affairs on the side, but that was wrong. He just couldn't imagine marrying someone he didn't truly want to be with. Although in his earlier years, he was fine to go along with that plan, it started to seem worse and worse as time went on. As he matured. He watched friends of his get into relationships, he'd watched his former classmates marry for love.

Maybe that was something he would want someday too.

His whole life he was taught that his only purpose was to take over the manor and have an heir to do the same after him. He was taught to follow the rules of Pureblood culture and never stray from them.

But maybe that's not what he wanted. Maybe he'd end up breaking that purpose that had been shoved onto him for so many years.

Lucius be damned.

Draco pushed those thoughts to the back of his head and was suddenly greeted by another owl. He hadn't expected Hermione to write back so quickly.

He realized rather fast that it wasn't either of their owls at the window. It was a ministry owl, one that had been to the house before. It'd dropped off a letter about Lucius' sentencing a few years prior. Draco recognized its unique features and appearance, as well as the way it tapped the window. 

Draco opened the window and took the parcel from its feet, giving it a treat and sending it back on its way. But nothing could prepare him for what he was about to read.

_"Mr. Malfoy,_

_Due to the plummeting population of the wizarding community, we must take action to combat this. Without balancing our numbers back out, we risk issues far larger than many we have faced before. Due to this, we have selected a group of the most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from your generation. On the Winter Solstice, a traditional ball will be held with the purpose of matching up pairs to produce the most powerful witches and wizards possible. All matches will be done by Ministry officials using traditional Pureblood methods, but blood purity will be disregarded._

_Attendance is mandatory. Formal wear is required._

_December 21st, 7 pm Sharp, in the Ministry Hall._

_Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt"_

Draco nearly choked on his own saliva upon reading it. There was absolutely no way they were going through with this... it was insane. Even for him. He'd just been thinking about how awful it would be to have an arranged marriage forced onto him and now the _Ministry_ was doing it?!

He could see their point, though. It didn't make him any less irritated by it. 

That's when something struck him. If he could get engaged before the winter solstice, he wouldn't have to attend this stupid ball and be paired up with some witch like a couple of cattle. He wasn't sure how to enact this plot, but his brain was already beginning to structure it. First he just had to find someone who hated the idea as much as he did and strike up a deal.

-

Hermione received the Ministry letter in the middle of her day. She'd been eating lunch alone in the kitchen when the owl tapped on her back window.

Her first reaction had been shock, then anger, then confusion. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. She felt nowhere near ready to get into a relationship, nonetheless get _married_ , and she certainly didn't want that decision made for her by anyone else. She respected the Ministry, they'd always done what they felt was best for the population, but this was just ridiculous.

Parts of it were humorous to her, like the fact that blood purity was being completely disregarded. She knew for a fact that some families were raging over that now, definitely those from the Sacred 28. She could only imagine the look on Pansy Parkinson's face. She was probably shitting bricks. 

Part of her wanted to storm into the Ministry and demand reasoning from none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt himself, but this would be irrational and probably wouldn't get her very far. Although she was one of the most well-known people in the wizarding world now, it wouldn't help save her from newly imposed rules like this.

She envied Harry, Ginny, Hannah, and Neville now along with all of the others who'd already paired up in her year. They were fine. They were safe. They didn't have to go through with this. But this was just plain ridiculous.

The real reason she wasn't ready for a relationship wasn't because she still loved Ron. It was because she was afraid she didn't know how to be in a real relationship. Theirs was juvenile, premature. It was fleeting, hot and cold, up and down. It made her feel scared that she would never find someone who could, as Ron once put it, "deal with her."

Hermione leaned her head against the window, muttering curses to herself. 

_How can I get out of this?_ She thought to herself.

That's when an owl came to her door once again with a letter from none other than Draco.

_"Hermione,_

_Come by the manor today. The floo will be open at 6._

_\- Draco"_

She wondered if he'd seen the letter yet. He was probably fine with it, Hermione was aware of certain aspects of Pureblood culture like arranged marriages. But for her, this was a nightmare. She didn't want to have to settle down against her will with someone the Ministry chose for her. 

At one point, it would be easy. She wouldn't have to worry about dating around. But she didn't want to marry just for the sake of having a child. It felt so... animalistic. Like she was being auctioned off at a cattle auction for breeding. It was already getting under the witch's skin.

Hermione decided to throw herself back into work in order to get it off her mind. It was a Sunday, so she was closing early anyways, and it wouldn't affect her too much to go by the manor. The clock read 4:35 when she finally had a customer. Her third one of the day. It was rather slow because most people were at church or with their families, muggles tended to do that. She was on the verge of falling asleep when a young woman walked in and bought a book about Pagan witchcraft.

After the woman left, Hermione decided to just go ahead and close up. It was unlikely she'd have another customer. So, she flipped the shop sign to closed and headed upstairs, deciding an outfit change was in order.

She pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfortable jumper, letting her hair down from the bun it'd been in for hours. With a sigh, she checked her watch and decided a nap was in order.

She woke up at 6:01. Perfect timing.

Flooing to the manor was an easy process but it didn't mean she enjoyed it. She wasn't a fan of apparation either, the way it made her feel was rather odd. But flooing was much easier than apparation and she'd take it over the other anyday.

The manor's energy felt... off. 

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and into the living room to see Draco sitting on an armchair with a book in his lap.

"You're a few minutes late." He said with a teasing hint.

She rolled her eyes. "2 minutes, Draco. Get over it."

"Someone's rather annoyed today, hmm?" The blonde said as he put the book down and stood up. He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and offered her one as well, which she happily took. She needed a drink after the letter she'd received.

"Did you get the Ministry letter?" Hermione asked with a sigh, irritation clear in her voice and on her face.

He nodded. "It's funny, I always knew I was going to be in an arranged marriage but this is just... odd."

She chewed on her lower lip. "I don't want to do it at all. I can't imagine anything worse than being paired up by Ministry officials to reproduce... it's animalistic." She vented. "Besides, most of us have no intentions of settling down yet. I know they want to repopulate but can't they just let things go by naturally?"

Draco chuckled dryly. "Well if things were to happen that way, the next class of first years at Hogwarts would only consist of a couple children. I understand why they're doing it but it doesn't make it any better."

Hermione huffed. "I just want out of it. They'd probably pair me with a total stranger, or worse, any of the Purebloods who never got over their old ideals."

He chuckled again. "Same. But one thing I would want to see is Pansy Parkinson getting paired with a Muggleborn or Halfblood. She'd lose her mind."

Hermione laughed in return. "You're right. I was just thinking about that earlier. She never let go of her old mindset did she?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately for her, no. Sometimes that girl is so stubborn I wonder if she should've been put in Gryffindor. I grew up around her but that doesn't make her any more likable." Draco paused for a moment. "I... do have an idea on how to get out of it."

Hermione tilted her head. "How? The only way would be to get engaged before the winter solstice. I don't know anyone insane enough to go through with it."

Hesitantly, Draco replied. "Well... you want out of it, I want out of it... we could fake it."

The gears seemed to be shifting in Hermione's head. "I mean... that would work, but imagine the chaos it would come with. Harry and Ginny wouldn't talk to me for months, I don't know how your mother or friends would react... if your father ever found out-"

"He won't. He won't find out. And either way, it's not like we actually have to be together. The public would have to think so, but we can just be friends in the background. My mother wouldn't care, she'd probably be happy. As for my friends, they'll get over it. Yours, though... it's a risky plan but the payoff is good. Besides, if push comes to shove, we can just have an open marriage and have children with other people. They'd have to be in on the secret but both of us would benefit." Draco responded.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I suppose... but how in Merlin's name are we going to trick everyone into thinking we're engaged? I mean, we've only just become friends."

"Strategy, Hermione. Strategy. You're smart, I'm smart. We'll figure it out." Draco said cooly. "First, we'd have to stage dates. A sprinkle of public affection. After a while, you could begin staying in the manor every now and then. One day, we can go somewhere we know the public will see and you'll have a family heirloom on your ring finger. Skeeter won't miss it. Everyone will find out, but that's the point. Then we won't have to attend that stupid ball."

"You know what... this is absolutely insane, Draco." Hermione said, downing the rest of her drink. "I'm in. If it means we don't have to get paired up with random people we hardly speak to, I'm in."

Draco reached out a hand to be shaken and Hermione reached hers out as well. The deal was made.

Now to hope everything went according to plan.


End file.
